


It Was Only a Kiss!

by gustin_puckerman



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: First Kiss, Homophobic Language, Homophobic Rallies, M/M, Which turned into a 3k fic cause damian has FEELINGS, and damian will support, based on a vine, jon will fight anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 01:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14149476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gustin_puckerman/pseuds/gustin_puckerman
Summary: Jon kisses Damian in front of anti-gay protestors. Problem is, they're not dating. Stuff happens.





	It Was Only a Kiss!

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as just a simple idea of Jon dragging Damian for a sudden kiss because he was being a shit in front of anti-LGBT rallies (which was inspired by a vine), and then Damian's feelings start to go all over the place. Now edited!

 

Damian's well aware Jon has a lot of opinions.

Loud, strong opinion which he doesn't mind sharing — or _arguing_ , more like — with Damian. At first it was annoying. Of course, having someone docile or submissive all the time isn't — that's not _right_ , either. Once upon a time ago, Damian relishes in control and his position of power. Being born (or rather created, Damian's never cared to confirm) into the line of Al Ghul generally gives him such position easily; men twice his age bows before him when he reaches six years old, kisses his feet, and mother isn't shy to coo to him how he deserves such treatment. It was normal.

Later in life, when men twice his age stops bowing down, and it — it becomes _something_ he's to adjust to.

But everything he faces, every challenges and sense of insecurity of not being surrounded by people who worships the land he stands on, it's worth it if it means he can get away from Grandfather and Mother. 

So no, perhaps Damian is far too smart to have expected a member volunteering to be his partner to have been quiet and timid. Jon is all the rage of the sea when Damian is hot fire. The first time they meet, it was a disaster-waiting-to-happen all over. Granted, had everything been according to Damian's plan, surely they would've not faced such a horrendous event — but, well. It's been years now. No point in dwelling over.

Point is: Jon's a very strong character.

They work well, surprisingly; the comfort of Jon looking at him and declaring their friendship the first time in front of Superman still loops to Damian's mind time-to-time. Damian's have had friends before. Maps, Colins, Maya, Suren — all wonderful people, really (well, the last one on the list is debatable). But none had really stated their friendship with him aloud with the intention to _affirm_ whatever they may have in front of an authority figure.

No, it wasn't even Jon seeking his father's approval. Rather, it was an announcement that he wouldn't abandoned Damian not even at Superman's request.

That was really something.

Like Damian said. Lots of loud and strong opinions.

 

* * *

 

They're walking down a street nearing the border where the city spreads to become suburbs and merge into Metropolis that they stumble into the scene. Jon has a cafe he likes there. Their pancakes are thick and fluffy and rates three dollars higher than the average ones Damian typically sees on another cafe's menu, but the jasmine tea they serves rivals Pennyworth's so. Damian tries not to complaint. Much.

Come to think of it, Damian's not quite sure what they were really talking about.

Jon has this habit to manoeuvre a lot of their conversations talking about trivial things when they're not in uniform and out in public. Like the college assignment he's struggling to finish due to an incompetent member, or when is it that Damian's planning to visit Grayson and Mari again because Grayson has the _audacity_ to contact Jon with reasons that maybe he may be able to persuade his younger brother in coming over. "He said I can come with you, D!" Jon has claimed unabashedly, and Damian nearly snorts on the fact that if Jon had wanted, he could've went to Grayson's alone and his presence will still be as welcomed.

It should unnerve Damian how much Jon's really involved in his rag-tag of a family, but — well. Jon has about three different active chats with his siblings as they speak, so. Unnerve or not, it isn't like it's against the law or anything. No one has been physically murdered. Yet.

"What's happening there?" Jon asks when they round that corner and sees multiple of people trailing about.

Damian frowns. Outside a typical Wayne's function, or any events he was invited to, he never really likes crowd. People who recognises him are often clingy and manipulative. Inviting Jon would be the only few upsides to all of the events. Watching the man splurge on the buffets the whole time while avoiding the socialists are far more interesting than a reporter prodding on him on the last week's model he was spotted with.

"Jon, may I suggest—"

"GAYS ARE NOT OKAY!" One of the people suddenly chants, and Damian can feel the tension spreading up Jon's spine and shoulders. 

It's funny, really, because seconds when Damian nearly asks them to walk elsewhere, he can already see Jon's simple compliance to heed orders. Jon should be aware too of Damian's discomfort handling a large group of people during their off-day — they've been together for ten years, after all — and agreeing to use a different route this time around wouldn't have been a hassle.

But those _comments_.

"It's a sin, my fellow friends. It's a sin! And God will punish you!"

Damian is irritated — Grayson's confession of his sexuality from years ago springing in his mind — and the need to be protective is quick like the blood rushing before a fight. But Jon. Jon is far _angrier_.

"Wha—you've gotta be kidding me." Jon exclaims, and he begin stepping forward into the group of people. Damian could barely hear anything else, not when all of his vision zeroes in on the way Jon's shoulder moves and his neck cranes at the tension. He's opening his mouth and speaking, maybe voicing his disagreement, Damian's not that sure. He's quick to scan any potential threats.

Jon knows better than to start a fight, but if a person decides to attack him now there will be no doubt somebody could be injured seriously. (The memory of a person attempting to stab Superboy and ended up having the knife broke and fly back to land in their eyes were the few experiences Damian knew both of them could do without.)

Easily, as he scans, Damian realises that not all of the people there were present in show of support. Some were just gawking, others filming. At least one person is crying. A small group are debating, and a few stand with their own stands announcing their negative opinion on the anti-LGBT protest. Aside from a few heated exchange, Damian's pretty certain a bloodshed couldn't have poured.

When Damian turns his attention back, it's because Jon's yelling something.

Then he gets pulled — his reflective nature is to swing — but when his opponent is Jon, _his best friend of ten years_ , his effort is futile, because Jon knows him inside-out as much as the opposite. He grips Damian's fist and cradles it; his action precise, and there's a carefulness in it that's splendid. Like a knife being thrown straight at the wanted target. It's satisfying.

Jon kisses him.

 

* * *

 

People cheer.

Of course they would. Humans are so stupidly easy to entertain.

But that could hardly be a concern when there're _cameras_.

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, Damian doesn't necessarily react that strongly other than splaying a firm hand against Jon's jaw when he could feel Jon deepens and elongate the kiss. It doesn't last more than seven seconds.

When Jon breaks away, Damian merely licks his lips. He doesn't even blink. Jon is still red — but it's due to his adrenaline and rage, Damian suspects — as he stares back at the preacher who're now moaning his disgust. Damian is thisclose to roll his eyes. He's dramatic, he gets it, but nobody ever talks about how Jon can get  _so_ _emotional_ sometimes.

Damian can taste the syrup from the thick pancake Jon seems to obsess over at the roof of his mouth. Damian's never really liked sweet.

They don't really talk about it until they're buckled into Damian's Jaguar and Damian looks over to see Jon's red is now spreading into a shade which alerts him of his embarrassment instead of his determination. Oh. Good. He finally realise now what he's done. Damian kicks the car alive, looks into his side-mirror, and drives them out.

"Oh my god."

Damian is quiet. See? Emotional.

" _Oh my god_."

"I'm glad you have finally realised what y—"

"Damian, I'm so sorry!"

Out of his own violation, Damian cracks a smile. It's a small upturn of his lips. He checks the rearview mirror, and sees no car. He moves to the middle lane. "You taste like those extremely unnecessary giant pancakes. I must remind you, their price is unreasonable excessive."

All Jon does is wince. "That bad?" Damian feels his heart thumps.

But then his phone buzzes. Jon goes over the stick to pick it up from his pocket. Damian doesn't usually answer when he drives. Not if someone isn't calling him. Calls usually means urgency. He's glad this time it's a text. It's been a while since Damian and Jon could have an ordinary day to not be rushed by criminal rings and lords. Protestors aside, today has been going so well.

Jon goes for the password and opens it. He always knows them no matter how much Damian changes. Sometimes Damian even tells him if he does.

"Oh my god." Jon repeats again, and Damian actually rolls his eyes. 

"What?" Damian demands just as Jon groans.

"I'm so stupid," is all his friend says and Damian can't help but to frown. Jon's incredibly dense sometimes, of course, he's not denying it. But he's hardly unintelligent. What's happened now? Jon squeaks again, and he's thumbing down Damian's phone screen now, eyes wide. His own phone buzzes against the pocket of his jeans. They're black. The jeans. Jon's always looked better in black jeans. The messy-haired twenty-year old pockets them out. "Damian, oh my god, I'm so sorry."

"Stop it. Tell me what happened."

Jon urges Damian to pull over. He does five minutes later.

 

* * *

 

_DAMIAN WAYNE, SON OF THE FAMOUS BRUCE WAYNE, HAS BEEN SPOTTED TO HAVE BEEN KISSED BY LONGTIME BEST FRIEND AND COMPANION JONATHAN KENT IN FRONT OF ST. ROTHSOM COLLEGE'S ANTI-LGBT RALLY_

 

* * *

 

The most irritating thing is the call from Maya. Well, Tim screeches a lot when he does, so — maybe not Maya alone.

"I _knew_ it!" She yelps as soon as Damian picks it up. Besides him, Jon's flustered by various calls from his own college mates, his phone buzzing now and then to alert him of more notifications from whatever social media he possesses. He looks tired. His cheeks are pink, even if the rush of adrenaline and embarrassment should've been long gone now. Damian, from his side of the seat, reaches over to splay the back of his fingers against said-cheeks.

Jon is startled, but he doesn't move Damian's fingers away - smiles exhaustedly.

Damian leans down and reaches into the compartment. He has a gel lotion he buys from Indonesia about a year ago. If Jon's hot in anyway on his skin, it could keep help him keep cool. On the phone, Damian calmly replies. "We're not dating."

"Not dating, my ass. I have a complete video of the two of you kissing. _Kissing_. Your lips met!"

"Jon—" he glares, just as he pushes the lotion on Jon's hand and watches as the boy smiles guiltily while answering his own phone, "—decides to teach some people a lesson. It's not my fault he went with an unorthodox method to prove his point."

"Sounds like someone I know." Maya replies, cheeky - is she implying Damian is as rash and unthinking as Jon is?

He scowls. Maya chuckles.

"What did Bruce said?"

Oh, shit. He forgot about that.

"Damian?"

He doesn't answer.

"Oh my god, your dad hasn't fucking—"

"Goodbye, Maya."

He ends the call. Sighs. 

Jon smears a lotion down his knuckles where the bruises from punching a robber days ago were healing. Damian looks up. Jon's switching his own phone off. Drops the lotion bottle on Damian's laps. His own cheeks are glistened from where he must've rubbed the gel. He, too, sighs. It's quiet for a moment. Jon says he's sorry. Damian breathes and tells him there's really nothing to be sorry for.

And you know what? There really isn't.

 

* * *

 

Meeting Lois in the eyes are harder than he thought when he goes off to drop Jon off.

She doesn't — she isn't _mad_ , he doesn't think. Nor does she look like she disapproves. But accusatory, maybe. Like she's offended she's found out his son's dating his best friend the way she did. Damian doesn't know how to tell Lois that he and Jon aren't dating at all, and is glad when Jon's the one who whines about it. " _Mom_ ," he says, and his voice sounds so surprisingly young, "I told you this over the phone! Damian didn't do anything wrong!"

Lois tuts, clearly disappointed. But at least her eyes are off Damian now. She stares pointedly at her son.

"I assume you've apologised to Damian?" She asks, serious.

"Of course!" Jon is bright red. Damian licks his lips. He interrupts, "Don't worry... I know he didn't do it with — the wrong intention. I forgave him, Mrs. Kent."

Lois looks apologetic. She smiles softly. "Your PR agent must be having the time of their lives, huh?"

Damian smiles at that. Yeah. He can't stop calling him for the past hour. It was annoying. Damian's cut off his phone for that very reason for a while now. He knows if father or Pennyworth were to seek him actively, they'd trigger the stress button in his car and one attached in his watch. So, he shouldn't have missed too much. "I should get home. Clear it with father."

"You do that, honey. Be safe on your way home, okay?" Lois knocks him off sometimes with how motherly she gets. Damian is hurt to think how Mother would've reacted so very differently should she be here in Jon's mother's shoes.

"Certainly." Damian replies just as Jon kisses his mom on the cheek and asks permission to linger outside. They're too old and millennial to have to say parting words like these. Damian wonders what Jon has to say. 

Lois goes inside, Jon walks him to his car.

"Hey. Look."

"Haven't we resolved this, Jon? I told you I've taken no offence."

"I know you don't, but—" Jon scratches his temple, one hand in his pocket. He isn't wearing his glasses now, and it's infuriating to realise the blue of Jon's eyes when he has a few inches on Damian. Why must he be cursed with incompetent DNA cells which doesn't at all boost upon his height? "I'm sorry."

"You're so ridiculous." Damian says instead.

"Yeah, maybe." Jon's shoulders slump. Damian knows this will eat at him for days. He can predict Jon's moans and groans over texts and phone after this. "I still shouldn't have kissed you, though."

Damian nods. He really shouldn't have, but — "It wasn't wholly... _an unpleasant thing_."

Jon's eyes widen. His voice hitches. Then, slowly, like one of those movie effects where everything slows down, he grins. Wide, beaming. Honestly. It's like Jon hasn't aged a day since they were kids. "So, I wasn't some — horrendous kisser who have defiled the great Damian Wayne?"

God, Damian hates him so much. "I didn't know you would kiss a man." He decides to change the topic.

Jon shrugs, and there's an ease to his shoulders now. He leans against the jaguar. His black jeans make his legs look long. Longer than usual, that is. Damian should buy him a pair of those for him even more. "What? No. I told you about Jessie, remember?"

He doesn't. Jon can see this. "When I first started college? Somebody approached me? And showed me to class? We had a good time and I made that awful thing where I choked on my donut because Jessie made me laughed so hard and I had the white sugar dust all over me for the whole day?"

"I must've mistaken _Jessie_  as a girl's name, then." How foolish of him. Damian is ashamed of himself.

"Well, it's a name that can go both ways. I wouldn't blame you."

They're quiet. Damian wonders from which bakery the doughnut was from. There was one where Damian and Jon went to when Jon first introduced Damian to his college. He couldn't imagine Jon sitting on one of the chairs making a fool of himself from not being able to eat properly. In front of... of somebody else. Somebody who isn't Damian.

His stomach twists. Damian frowns. Is he sick so suddenly?

"Damian...?"

He looks at his friend. Jon's dark black hair is falling into his eyes. His gaze looks soft. Damian realises his shoulders are all tense. He sighs. "Apologies. Was I staring too much?"

"Glaring, more like. But. Same difference." Jon laughs under his breath, and Damian sighs again. It's been a long day. "Thank you for today. I — well. I'm still sorry about the, er, the kiss, but. I had a good time. The pancakes were really good!"

"Too sweet for my taste."

"I can't believe you can still taste that from just kissing me. Was I using my tongue?"

This time, it's Damian's turn to go red. He may not see it, but he can feel the heat spreading over his cheeks, under his eyes. Humiliating. Jon is standing straight up now, like a soldier being called suddenly into duty. "Damian?" He calls, and Damian feels his throat goes dry. He touches Damian's shoulders, hand against the muscle that goes to his arm, and — Jon is so warm this near.

"You startled me."

Jon weakly grins. "Didn't think you'd get flustered over a kiss." He prods gently, and Damian can see the bait he's trying to give. But the young Wayne doesn't bite. "Did I say something wrong?"

Damian's heartbeat are loud in his ears. Jon is so tall.

"Will you call me tonight?" He forces himself to say. He pushes Jon away, positions himself so he can get into the car. Jon lets him.

"Yeah." Jon says earnestly, scratches the back of his neck. He must've been worried for Damian. It's written all over his face. He's so good like that. Damian's truly lucky, isn't he? "Probably. I'll text you."

"Good." Damian says, and he gets inside. "I'll wait for you."

Jon smiles, and Damian feels himself growing calmer at the sight. Okay. Alright. Everything is okay. Nothing to be flustered about, thank you very much, Jonathan. He just has to — yeah. He's okay. He was just surprised, is all. Damian can count about only a few people he's kissed on one hand. To have been kissed with — _with tongue_. He wasn't even sure if Jon really did as what he's implied, in fact barely anything about the kiss can he really remember. He just knows that Jon was solid and strong when they're holding onto each other like that. He was warm. If Damian had fallen that moment, he could definitely have said that Jon would've caught him without hesitating.

Damian drives home.


End file.
